In the spirit of the Crown Alliance between the Allar and the Ailor (as well as the Qadir and Varran), alchemists and scholars of most races involved had started a common scholarly initiative with an exchange of medical knowledge and a cooperation of development projects. One such curious project was the Allar project led by the great Alchemist Zzarlo Merlowatta. Zzarlo and his team of Qadir and Ailor alchemists and biologists had been working for several months on something peculiar, a potential cure for the Circci infertility. Circci were known to be infertile due to their race’s physiology, a prospect that would have their race extinct in mere decades if it were permitted to persist. The rationale the Allar and Ailor had was that, if cured, the Circci might halt their aggression against the Allar in Hadar, and the Crown Alliance could use the cure as a bargaining chip to claim Circci support for the alliance. Much to the great pride of the project leader Zzarlo, a breakthrough was made in the beginning of July 305 AC where a team of Allar discovered a means to encourage a pregnancy in a Circci with promising results. Previously, Circci had been unable to conceive at all, but Circci who were part of the control group suddenly experienced all the symptoms involving pregnancy, and before long, Celestial Mages verified that there was indeed life growing inside them. The success of the project was kept quiet from the public eye for a while to ensure no false hope was given, after all, the children still had to be born to truly call the cure a success. What the scholars did not anticipate however, was that their intended cure was going to turn against them. The cure was partly produced with Allar body parts, which was a very frequent practice among the Allar Alchemists. One of the source groups was impure however, unbeknownst to the scholars, one of the Allar whose body parts was a carrier for a tropical illness. Using an alchemical compound that was later ingested by the Circci, Despite showing signs of pregnancy, before long, the Circci started to inhibit strange side-effects. Their skin started gradually losing color, their hair bleached and their sclera turned white while their hardened skin parts turned soft and smooth. These transitions weren’t painful, but the Circci were under the impression they were becoming malformed. Worse yet, the Scholars who worked on the cure and who were all closely associated became sick one by one, at an exponential rate. By the end of august, the entire Scholar’s Court had become ill, and the disease quickly spread outwards as the Regalian Government was slow to respond, focusing intently on its military goals and objectives. Medical personnel that tried to assist with the symptoms soon also became sick, making it very clear to the Biology experts that they were dealing with a very aggressive disease that spread rapidly and showed no signs of stopping. Before long, the first symptoms of the disease started popping up elsewhere in the world, Ithania, Daendroque, even Farah’deen was hit. The disease showed no signs of being lethal yet, though the symptoms were inhibiting in the daily lives of those affected, while also causing minor hysteria in the urban centres of the Regalian Empire. The disease was eerily reminiscent of the Bubonic Plague that had hit Regalia merely 40 years prior, killing tens of thousands. Allar, Ailor, Dwarves, Ch’ien-ji, Qadir and Songaskia all showed a similar set of symptoms that the Scholars later referred to as the Prime Condition. Those affected would have their skin become rough to the touch, filled with rashes with intense itching. More disturbing were the psychological effects, phantom pains or sensations of orifices or growths forming on the skin while nothing would appear. Those who became infected were either locked up in their rooms or in common auditoriums, but no means to try and stop the disease from spreading seemed to work. All Nelfin races, Yanar, Slizzar, Wulong, Solang, Maiar, Rashaq, Lampar and the local wildlife all seemed to be immune to the disease, but Nelfin and Yanar nurses tending to patients and later causing further infections made it clear that they were carriers of the disease nonetheless. Varran and Orc suffered another set of symptoms that the Scholars referred to as the Secondary Condition. They witnessed lucid hallucinations, bouts of paranoia and extreme claustrophobia. Orcs in particular were also affected by strong build up of mucus in their throats and frequent coughing fits. Varran were further also affected by extreme hair loss which resulted in completely bare patches of skin. Circci were affected as well, though didn’t physically show any debilitating issues besides their pigment loss in hair, eyes and skin. Curiously enough, all female Circci that were affected lost their infertility and were able to become pregnant. The changes to the Circci physiology continued as weeks went by, it becoming unclear if the disease showed any signs of stopping whatever it was doing to them. Their symptoms were referred to as the Zero Condition. Infection rate among the Circci was even more virulent than all other races. Circci being within several tens of meters of anyone infected quickly became infected themselves. Perhaps the most destructively affected of all were the Dakkar. The first Dakkar fatalities showed up in a matter of days. Autopsies showed that Dakkar who were affected after the first symptoms (being rougher skin, brittleness of the mineral growths), had their internal organs crystallized with the same mineral formations that formed on their skin. The mortality rate of Dakkar was a complete 100%, which in itself resulted in a massive flight of Dakkar back to Ellador. No Dakkar was safe to infection, especially since practically every other race was a carrier, and the disease even spread to the most remote corners of the Regalian Sewers and the farthest outposts of the Empire. It was estimated that the Dakkar would have roughly 30 days to leave Regalia, as when that time was over, infection would be certain and death unavoidable. Dakkar would typically die within five days of being infected, after a set of symptoms which the Scholars referred to as the Fatal Condition. The Dakkar that fled to Ellador found a safe haven. Ellador, as well as Jorrhildr and parts of northern Nordskag seemed to be completely unaffected by the disease’s spread for reasons that the Scholars could not yet comprehend. When news of this spread back to Regalia, the Government ordered every Dakkar to leave the Regalian Empire for their own safety and return back to the Holds from which they came or re-settle in Regalian outposts in Ellador. Many Dakkar took up the opportunity to leave the Imperial Capital behind and flee north, though some stayed behind hoping to weather their hopeless situation. No official other action was taken by the government to limit the spread of the disease, or to assist the sick. Nelfin and Yanar nurses and medical personnel came in high demand due to the disease affecting the Ailor medical staff of many clinics. One particular Ailor surgeon discovered that a mouth cap made of vinegar drenched leather and goggles worn over the eyes with air-tight rubber offered protection, though only 70% of the time. Scholars continued to battle the disease in an attempt to find a cure, but nothing seemed effective, and while besides the Dakkar dying there were no other cases of fatality, fear still gripped the people. OOC Notes: This disease is IC called "Zerlo's Illness". This is MassiveCraft’s first big IC epidemic. Participating in this story arch is not mandatory, though highly recommended for the build of fear. Are you infected? Is your family infected? How will you deal with the infected yourself? As perhaps evident from the post above, we are retiring the Dakkar race from playability. As opposed to simply wiping them from lore, we’ve opted to eliminate the race from scope playability with a disease. Dakkar players have the choice to either kill off their character at the hands of the disease soon, wait out the 30 days period and then kill them, or send them off to safety and essentially “drop” the character where they can survive on in memory while living in Ellador for the remainder of their lives. Regardless of the option that is taken, in 30 days and some, Dakkar will cease to be a playable race and any Dakkar that still roams in the city is forcibly killed by the disease at that stage. In about 15 days, the Dakkar Race page will be removed from the Wiki to facilitate the fact that they should no longer be played. We are similarly also physically changing the Circci race away from their old bug-like appearance. This is the main aim of this disease, but the exact physical changes aren’t quite determined yet. These will come in subsequent progressions, and will be enforced on all Circci. This is purely because the race is facing a rewrite, but the rewrite will be done entirely IC to avoid scrubbing characters from existence, and allowing existing characters to transition to the “new Circci” through the disease. The disease is currently in its first stage. It is not lethal or leaving any permanent marks on those infected, but future progressions may reveal more information to that effect. Maims and killings (with the exception of Dakkar) are not enforced or mandatory in any way. Permanent effects that will be released later may be optionally chosen by the players, but nothing will be forced. Remember that this is a progression post and not an OOC announcement. All replies to this thread should be IC and compliant with the section rules.
The Knight of Buechner stares into the distance, speaking softly to Otto, "This is why we needed the Inquisition to do more. It's The Old Gods Followers causing this with this runes or whatever they do. Should have killed them all when I had the chance. Spirit damn us all to Slizzar." Wolf lets out a long stream of smoke from his mouth as he coughs violently.
Conf pursed his lips, still intent on his trip. Though it would complicate things, as long as quarantines were not established he should still be free to move around... He pulled his scarf back up over his mouth, doubting it would help much, but feeling slightly better for having it. Thick wool stifled his breath slightly, but it is a small price to pay for a false sense of security.
Nadina Haaven shuffled wearily amongst the rabble of the midday crowd. As the days progressed, it seemed that more and more Ailor were being taken by this mystery affliction; rashes, warts and unhealthy pigments appeared on the skins of those around her, to near debilitating degree in some cases. A simple handkerchief over the nose was all the cynical alchemist used to protect herself. Though she could not find a mere speck of illness upon her body, there was no way she could tell of the microbial disaster lying just beneath the surface. The Yanar predicted that it wouldn't be long before the apothecary saw an influx of customers desperately seeking respite from the nameless symptoms. With haste, Nadina scurried back to her well-equipped alchemical laboratory and began tirelessly experimenting with the contents of her shelves. There had to be a cure. Everything had a cure... Right?
Ciddyn paced around her home after hearing the news, fear that she would lose the little friends she had completely overtook her mind given the fact that her entire species seemed to be the epicenter of the mysterious illness. Taking a seat at her loom, the seamstress quickly began working on making fabric that would be sewn into something not only to hide herself from the outside world, but similarly hide from the illness that she failed to realize had already left her pale.
Juliette had taken away from the main street of Regalia following the few glances she had of several folk of the city bearing terrible rashes and avoiding those that even so much as scratched their arm. The pregnant Wodenstaff wasted no time fleeing back home away from the commotion that would soon appear. Despite the fact that the servants of the home could agree to the fact that the noble lady had raced off to her rooms, she'd state that she was only weary and wished to rest- not admitting the fear that had struck her. Sadly though, the woman would not be able to keep herself only to her home for much longer than a few hours- soon enough the lady would return to the city, though keeping her distance towards those infect and unaware that those that didn't yet show symptoms could still pass it on to herself.
Ji sighs, arms full of produce from the market. He eyes his coin bag wearily, before turning heel to go purchase vinegar and good cow's leather, along with those goggles. The Ch'i isn't keen on contracting this, thank you.
Vlu'xilkik remained indoors for as much time as she possibly could. This disease had its most virulent effects on her kin, and she took every precaution possible to evade infection. Though, what would become of her job at the Sawbones clinic? If she became a carrier, she could get others sick. That defeated the whole purpose of her being a medic. What about home? How widespread was this? All those lives she spared from hibernation sickness...Were they doomed too? Was all of it pointless? Should she have let them stay asleep? Should she have let them remain dead, to protect them from this fate? Should she- Her train of thought was derailed by the cough that escaped her throat, her chest heaving at the end to free some unseen phlegm loose. Her heart throbbed in her chest, swelling her ribs from within. Terror. She was not symptomatic. At least, she thought she wasn't. Her hand flew down to her forearm, her bicep, her calves, her thighs, her torso; the chitin had yet to peel away, and tenderize. She reached frantically for her lengthy locks of hair; the same deep red it always had been. And yet, were the Circci to look in a mirror, she would notice her dark eyes begin to gray, if only slightly. Alas, never in her life was she wealthy enough to even look into one.
Ikaiko simply wondered why people were getting sick, and.. rough skin? He had looked to his sand-paper skin and wondered, then ignored the possibility of everyone turning to Murr. Proceeding to march through the quiet paths of the park, he watched as orange leaves fell from the tree tops above. The trees are weakening too, it seems. Continuing to ponder on the whole epidemic, he suddenly let out a loud sniffle of his runny nostrils, groaning with self conclusion of the illness spreading: "I hate new season sickness."
Joasaie walked through the park, enjoying the changing of the leaves and the days cooling, though she noticed less people had been out in the streets. Any that passed her seemed to distance themselves, some muttering of a disease or itching at rashes shown on their skin. Worriedly she checked herself, hoping to not find any signs of infections and sighing in relief when she found none. As she made her way back to her home however, she kept in mind that she should avoid people showing symptoms. She didn't want to risk being infected or worse, carrying the disease and spreading it.
Elise Delsaere would already be in quarantine scratching at her arms behind the safety of her own confinement as screams let out a cry for a cure to stop the pain's she felt. Clawing at her skin with every intention to drive the poor Alior girl insane from the rapid scratching to the phantom pains and growths she felt would only be her imagination showing no signs of any real physical harm she would be at the mercy of the illness, praying for a cure.
*As she left the apothecary, Elliya Nyin yawned from behind her vinegar dipped rags and mask* "Looks like another illness to annoy the fleshlings~ this will be fun to watch~" *With that she took to her home to find any vinger she had and attack her house to prevent infection* OOC NOTE: To all Dakker players I will be saving the entire race lore so if your character does run from regalia to live safely you can still play them in faction RP~ Your Welcome~
''Send the staff home, except for the guards and close the gates.'' Sophia spoke to her maid as she looked out of the window out onto the estate the family called theirs. ''May the spirit protect us.''
Kharzug fidgeted with her plague mask with one hand, the other holding a tall mug of ale. "How the f*ck'm I s'pposed to drink with this damn thing?" she grunted. At the sound of light footsteps behind her, she turned to see a Rashaq woman staring curiously at her mask. "If I take off your mask, will you die?" she asked. "It'd be real painful." Kharzug responded, returning the stare through her dark-tinted goggles. "You're a big Orc." replied the Rashaq, looking her from head to toe. Behind her mask, Kharzug growled. "For you."
Staggering down the final steps of the stair leading to the sewers, Sahl Va'ak clenched his chest at the imeasurable pain twisting his insides. The Dakkar clenched his fists and pounded his chest a time or two, breath growing more staggered and strained. The pain however, was nothing in comparison to the humilliation he felt once he came to the realization, that he would die. To become so weak, in the sight of the god he so adored, worshipped, and whom he had fought for, for generations. Sahl vowed a last stand to prove his worth, fighting himself to an upright position and lifting his head as much as possible before releasing a final roar which pierced through the echoing sewer tunnels like cannon fire. In the noise of the cry, Sahl's glories and defeats flickered before his sights as if they were so real. The defeat of an enemy clan, the battle against a dwarven hold. Losses and victories, enslavement and emancipation, battle and rest. The scream soon died out, and the dakkar felt the cool and moist embrace of the underground as he collapsed onto his knees, body bending forwards and his arms clenched to his torso as the holy warrior joined his god...
R'chxta woke up as if it was any normal day. He climbed out of his straw bed, in his decrepit slum hovel and made his way down the ladder to the ground floor. He went to the pantry, and sat down with a bit of hardtack. It was now that the Vissi came downstairs as well, following their master as they usually would, however this morning was different. The two Vissi were armed, looking as if he were going to attack R'chxta. It was only when he spoke that they realized it was him. They pointed to him, frantically trying to get his attention for some strange reason. It was now he realized what had happened. He had changed, his normal chitin having become skin, but how he pondered? It must be those blasphemous Nelfin and some sort of magicks.. or some sort of Allar treachery, trying to wipe out all of Cirrci-kind? R'chxta hoped we would return to how he was soon, as looking like one of the lesser races would be a demeaning issue for him and the Dlu'voxki hive.
Garret awoke to the thumps erupting from the upper-deck, the quarters were humid and rough coughing could be heard from the fellow sailors. With a groan he'd stand up, slowly stretched as he reattached his stump and covered his shirtless body with his tench coat. Lighting a Sigg, Garret eyed the crew struggling to toss a large mass off board, but as he made his way towards the railing he recognized the object to be a Dakkar he'd drank with just a few days ago. With a sigh, Garret stared at the struggle for a long awkward while before the grim scene reminded him to lazily hold a handkerchief to his mouth. He didn't really expect the cloth to stop any diseases but with how sickly the crew was, It could only help. Turning back to the railing, Garret could only think one thing- "Still better than Regalia." And with that, he'd ash his Sigg once more before littering the paper to the sea as he returned to his duties.
IC: The room was dimly lit, a fine layer of dust had settled over the furniture. It had been a long time since Aedan had been home, and now it seemed it would be a long time till he left. He silently honed the edge of his blade. None of those infected were getting near him.
Marcus Bigge Marcus was seated in his chambers, his door locked and his windows sealed. Marcus was adorned with the vinegar drenched mouth cap and the goggles placed over his eyes. He tapped his fingers against the armrest of the chair he was seated in, quite nervous for the future of Regalia and the possible fatal symptoms of the disease. For now though, he waited. Waited in seclusion. Aldrich Rosenhain Aldrich did the same, slightly more nervous due to his old age and him being prone to sickness. So far he wasn't infected, not knowing of any of his family being infected. So, he prayed to the Spirit for a well fate for Regalia.
Upon catching word of this news Lyresin Scathni would burst into a wide smile, his laughter echoing throughout the Slums. "I wonder if it'll effect me..." his smile would vanish for a brief second, before reappearing, stronger this time. "I do so hope my Wolathar genes finally come of use..." he would mutter to himself, though still in a louder voice than what would be used for typical conversation. He would then get up from his perch about the 'waterfall', heading back down into the darkness of the tunnels. Meanwhile, in the more hospitable part of Regalia, Howell Valinor would be enjoying a nice glass of his favorite Ithanian wine, when he noticed the coughing of a nearby Varran. Curious, he went over to converse with the creature, and it was then he noticed patches of fur missing all across it's body. "May I ask what has happened to you?" He asked, concerned for the man. The Varran then told Howell about the plague, and what little color he had drained from his face.
Adalsteinn Jenns "Haha, Dwarves win! Get it up yae, Dakkar scum!" The small stout blacksmith happily proclaimed. "Hmm... I wonder what the lads back hame would think a' this. Could finally end those rock-buggers once and fur all." He mumbled to himself, preparing to write a very important letter.
Lazaruz sat by his desk, writing away about the epidemic. "Bad things happen, but everything must be recorded, not just the good." Eventually after he'd written as much as he knew of the illness he got lost in a deep sympathy for the Dakkar; thinking of all those he had previously met...
Tobie gripped the hilt of his blade as he heard of the horrific disease released upon the city, turning to his house guards and speaking softly "The last we saw an epedemic like this, the sick were killed; House Peirgarten will be taking precautions for sure." he rose a plague mask up to his face at that and left his study to alert his family.
Sharun Scathni hardly takes notice of this epidemic, the Cielothar continuing about her daily businesses. Meanwhile... Nakra Dalassenos notices the sudden change of fashion with everyone save a few races. A creepy mask or cloth covering part of the face. Huh. The Yanar cleans dishes as they begin to learn about a supposed sickness coming around. Why wasn't it affecting them? They have no clue. Also... T'aik runs around the park, collecting various florae and briefly wondering why the talls had weird thingies on their faces. 'Must be a talls thing', she thinks to herself. Without any further thoughts on this, the Lampar returns to her home with food and random plants in her arms.
Itty Darcht Any other person, in any other position, would have long given up by now. These were the bitter words he repeated to the he paced down the twisting, sinister streets and towards the dark hub of disease the Sawbones called home. There was no point in giving up now. Apart from anything, it would be a waste. All he could do now, was wait. A cure would be found soon, with any luck; everything has a cure. And while he waited, he would keep himself busy. He would do some.. expedition, or something. Go visiting. Travel back to Hadar for a bit, perhaps..? And maybe just.. stay for a while. No need to return in a hurry, was there? No, there certainly wasn't. In fact, why come back at all? He shook his head, dislodging the unhelpful train of thought, and hurried along just a little quicker. This was not the time.
As the young lady was reading, she heard the sound of foot steps approaching the estate's library. To her surprise, it was a maid. As the maid approached closer, she started to inform Lady Viegifu of that plague- "Oh spirit. Has anyone died yet?" Viegifu would ask, that maid shaking her head eat and west- "Hm, I better be cautious then."
Vul'kcks wandered the slums staring down at her changed form in disgust "Disappear for a few months and everything goes to shit" she muttered angrily as she continued her walk.
Allard raises a brow upon hearing of this. "The Spirit shall protect me. Who needs a mask, when they have the Imperial Spirit to protect them?" Allard would then, grab the mask he was given, and went to his home to burn it in his fireplace. Speaking aloud so all may hear him as he made his way home. "Have faith in the Spirit. He will protect, and bless those who remain faithful, and devoted. I pray that all will learn, you cannot depend on physical things, to get out of trouble. It is through the Spirit, we live on."
"Home" was a word again foreign to his tongue; an ironically familiar taste. He'd had so many homes up until this point, but this is the first time he was fleeing for his own sake. Looking to his belongings, he found himself thankful that he owned so little. He had no land to abandon, no pricy furniture or other large things to leave behind, just a burlap sack of trinkets, memory-items, and the odd bit of armor. "Yes", he thought to himself, "It is being easier like this... Less to carry, more to keep." Paying the captain for permission to board his ship in a few weeks time nearly brought Nal Roh to his knees. Normally, he isn't one to care for coin, but every last Regal he had? It was almost like paying the Daendroque man finalized everything. He's leaving Regalia, running away to save his own steely hide, and for what? To avoid an enemy he can't see? "'Fatal Condition'... Being too many words to be telling me what it is. All this is being is 'death', simple and plain." He leaves the docks, unwilling to spend much time in public places anymore, yet too proud to avoid them for long. He still has time. Time to enjoy time with his friends, to get into petty fights, to relish his last moments in Regalia. No time to die, though. Even if he doesn't know exactly how old he is, he is confident that he has around a century and a half to live, so how could he die? Life in Ellador won't be so bad, either. He enjoys the cold, and takes pleasure in knowing that the native trolls and ogres and frosthorns will be his newest prey. He will prove his worth to the people he fights with, and send his spoils to his brother here in Regalia. Horns and teeth and claws and fu- Is it assuming him to think of his friend as a brother? He's never asked. But no, he doesn't need to. Brothers aren't something you ask for, right? He wouldn't know. He hasn't had one, until now. Brother it is! He head's towards Tisi's house, smiling deeply on the inside as he daydreams of all the hunts he will go on with the Url, of the prizes and trophies he will win, and of the letters he will send back to Regalia. To his home. To his brother. "To Rokh." @NChulingeth
"Whatever the case, may the Spirit guide us." Otto said as he second hand smoked from Wolf's sigg breath
Ikaiko continues to punt small lampar who try to crawl up him. Nope nope nope not going to carry any illness whatsoever.. "Hitting small people with a foot is fun.." he nodded to himself with satisfaction to his words "Let this be the new sport of Regalia: Klein Kicking, the Puny People Punting Passtime."
